Into Thin Air
by Gillingham
Summary: Newlywed bliss is interrupted.
1. Chapter 1

Into Thin Air: Chapter 1

The day had started just like every day since their wedding four days ago. Exactly the same, yet each morning somehow a new experience: Marianne did not know it would be possible to love her husband more than she had on their wedding day, but she did. Every moment spent alone with him engrained him deeper and more solidly into her being and in the time of four days she had learned that every moment with Christopher was blessed and right. And every moment like the early mornings in their bed chambers before it was time to emerge from their private little cocoon in particular were moments Marianne cherished.

Before her wedding she had tried to gain better understanding of what happened in the privacy of a marriage with a man and a woman. Certainly she wasn't entirely ignorant of the process in general, but the dynamics between men and women and the degree of emotional connection she was not sure about – or the degree of sheer physical pleasure! Christopher was very keen. So keen that he had even expressed concern that he might be pushing her too much. Certainly there had been some soreness initially, but Christopher had been so gentle the next day Marianne had forgotten all about these little aches when his lips had attended to her sore parts so beautifully.

Today was the first time they had been apart for any considerable time since their wedding. Of course the day would come: world did not stop turning simply because Christopher Brandon got married. His estate and tenant farmers still needed his attention and today Christopher had been fetched from a nearby farm to help some problem or another. Marianne hadn't heard everything but apparently the farmer had lost a horse and injured another in a short period of time and had trouble getting his work done without help. She'd heard Christopher had offered to lend the man a horse or two, but for some reason had decided to go over to the farm to see about the stables and to talk about helping the man get a new horse of his own.

Marianne was keeping herself occupied by familiarizing herself with running the house. She had asked Mrs Dobson if she could follow her around some to see what was involved in a typical day. Mrs Dobson had, of course, agreed and Marianne had made the older woman promise to be honest and tell Marianne the moment she was getting in Mrs Dobson's way. Brandon had taken off soon after breakfast and it was nearly time for afternoon tea now. Marianne was getting a little restless: what was taking that long? The farm wasn't very far, perhaps half an hour ride from Delaford.

Half way through a cucumber sandwich and a cup of tea Marianne heard a horse approach the house fast. She observed the rider – a young farmhand from all she could tell – talk to Brandon's butler. He seemed agitated and was gesturing wildly towards the road and the direction of the farm. Marianne took her tea to the window to look towards where the young man was gesturing and gasped when she saw a column of thick smoke in the distance.


	2. Chapter 2

Into Thin Air: Chapter 2

Mr Michaels came to Marianne as soon as the boy took off on his horse again.

"Mrs Brandon," he started. Marianne nodded, encouraging the butler to just go on and tell her what that was about.

"There's a rather destructive fire at the Johnson farm and Colonel Brandon just sent a word with one of the stable hands that he's helping out as much as he can. He says to tell you not to worry and that he will return to Delaford as soon as they get the situation under control there."

"Thank you, Michaels," was all Marianne was able to say. She had a bad feeling. Brandon was not someone to stay out of the action, he would go in there and work as hard as anyone else, if not more so. If she understood her husband at all, he was a man who was an officer not because of his position or wealth but because he was a leader of men. A leader by example. He did not talk so much but when it was time to act no one was left in the dark as to his intentions.

Michaels left the room, not knowing if there was anything he could say or do at this point. Of course he could tell that the new mistress of Delaford had paled and started to breath more rapidly. Of course he could see the news had scared Mrs Brandon. He found Mrs Dobson and suggested it was perhaps necessary to keep an eye on their mistress in case she became more distressed. Judging by how the lad had described the barn fire and given that the column of smoke was showing no signs of dispersing, it could be a long night before the Colonel would return.

Mrs Dobson said nothing, but kept an eye on Marianne. She had some idea of her character from their meetings so far, but more than that Mrs Dobson had a very clear idea of how in love her master and his wife were. The concern on Marianne's face became more and more obvious as the afternoon turned to evening. It was soon dinnertime and the Colonel was not home. Mrs Dobson had her doubts about Marianne's appetite.

"Mrs Dobson," Marianne called when she saw the housekeeper pass the library door. This was one of Christopher's favourite rooms and somehow it eased Marianne's worry to wait for him in there. For a casual passer-by it may have looked liked Marianne was reading, but it was really just a surrogate activity: something to keep her hands busy and not draw attention to herself too much while her mind was on her husband. Why was he not home yet? Had he gone and pushed himself into fighting the fire at close range? It would be so like him to do so!

"Yes Madam?" Mrs Dobson responded as she entered the room.

"I know a whole dinner has been prepared in the kitchen, but would it be awfully rude of me to ask that we'll not have it now? I don't think I can eat now… at least not until Colonel Brandon returns…" Marianne's voice betrayed her degree of confidence. She had become so used to minimal staff and had been so close to the two servants she and her sisters and mother had had at Barton Cottage she was painfully aware of the amount of work that was put into looking after herself and Colonel Brandon. She was afraid it would not be a very appreciative gesture to dismiss a dinner her staff had worked hard on.

Mrs Dobson understood the young mistress.

"It is no bother at all, Madam. We quite understand. That fire has been going on all afternoon and evening I can see your worry. However, can I not persuade you to eat even just a little something? Some broth, maybe? Colonel Brandon would be most unhappy to return and find that you have neglected yourself, Madam." Mrs Dobson's voice was gentle and motherly. In some households it would perhaps be deemed too familiar, but both women knew the dynamic was different here. The ladies understood each other.

Marianne sighed. She really did not think she could swallow a bite, but Mrs Dobson was, of course, right. It wouldn't do for her to be all feeble and weak when Christopher finally came home.

"Yes, alright. Maybe a little broth is there is some. I don't want to make extra trouble. I hope that tonight's dinner can be kept until tomorrow. We'll have it cold or whatever is easiest." Marianne instructed.

"Very well, madam." Mrs Dobson nodded and left for downstairs to deliver the new instructions. The whole household would understand, Mrs Brandon needn't have worried herself with that.

Even when eating Marianne kept an eye on the window. The evening had grown dark now and she couldn't see if the smoke had dispersed. She was very worried now: Christopher was still not home. How would he ride back in the dark? Just then she heard a horse. Thank goodness! He was home! Michaels was already at the door when Marianne reached the entrance hall, anxious to see that her Christopher was all right. Then the door opened and Marianne's knees buckled: it was, again, just a young lad – carrying Christopher's bag and hat.


	3. Chapter 3

Into Thin Air: Chapter 3

"Oh no! No, no, no… Where's Christopher?" Marianne's worry surfaced now almost without restraint. She forgot to refer to him as the Colonel and she did not care whether the servants saw her in such distress. Where was Christopher? Mrs Dobson was by her side almost in an instant, reaching a comforting and supporting arm around her mistress, making some calming noises and encouraging her to hear the young lad out.

"Mrs Brandon… I'm sorry to come in so late…" the boy was clearly confused at Mrs Brandon's reaction.

"Colonel Brandon left without his bag and hat and I was sent to bring them to him straight away…" the boy was still confused. Why should there be such distress when it really was just a bag and a hat.

"Did you say Colonel Brandon left to come home?" Michaels asked the boy. It had taken him some moments but he'd pieced the picture together now: the Colonel had left the farm to come back to Delaford but had forgotten his belongings. How had the boy not caught up with the Colonel then?

"Yes, he left quite some time ago, well before dusk, sir."

Michaels exchanged a look with Mrs Dobson: their master was missing.

"Good God, no!" Marianne exclaimed, her eyes filled with fear. The boy looked bewildered, and Michaels explained:

"Colonel Brandon has not arrived yet. Something must have happened. Are you sure you did not miss him on the road? Could he have taken another route?"

"No, sir. That is the only road here until the crossroads quarter mile before Delaford gates. I saw no one, I'm sure." The boy finally understood the problem. Michaels had grabbed the hat and the bag earlier, but now abruptly shoved them to the side, spinning into action. In one great whirlwind of action that Marianne was only half able to follow in her near-panicked state, Michaels had summoned all available staff and sent the boy to alert all the staff at the stables as well. Marianne, supported and comforted by Mrs Dobson, did her best to collect herself: this was not a time to be weak and fall to pieces. Her husband needed her one way or another and she would not shy away from the task.

Michaels lost no time in organising the staff into a search party, and eventually sent the boy from the farm home with one of Delaford's staff and big lanterns to alert more help. Marianne wanted to join the search.

"Which way should I go, Michaels?" she approached the serious butler.

"Madam, you mustn't come."

"But I must – I must try and find him!" Marianne pleaded.

"Please, Madam. It would be best if you stay behind. Not because you can't look for him but because when we find him he will need you here, yes?" Michaels was perhaps serious, but he also had a soft spot for his master's wife. The girl had had such a positive influence on the Colonel that Michaels had practically adopted the girl himself.

Mrs Dobson wrapped an arm around Marianne's shoulder again, repeating what Michaels had suggested, and leading Marianne back to the library. It would be best to wait here. Whatever had happened to the Colonel, the house would not rest until they found him. Another man might have decided to wait and assume a perfectly innocent and trouble-free explanation for why the Colonel had not returned to Delaford, but Michaels was a man with good instincts and someone who had spend a long time with the Colonel over the years, and his instincts told him loud and clear something must have happened to his master.


	4. Chapter 4

Into Thin Air: Chapter 4

Marianne sat in the library, not knowing just how to keep herself calm. She had gone through this before, not knowing where Christopher was and whether he was all right or not. That time, however, he had been away with the forces ad there were so many other reasons why she had not heard from him. That time, he was far away and correspondence between distant countries was hardly reliable. Also she knew he was possibly in battle and there were many reasons why she wouldn't hear from him. That time she had just tried to keep all the possible reasons in mind to keep her hopes up: it was just as possible for him to be fine as it was to something bad to have happened. That had been hope enough.

This time was worse: he had disappeared on a half-hour ride on a familiar road. Even if he'd somehow come off his horse he would be home on foot by now if he was in reasonable health. As the hours passed Marianne's panic started to take over. She could no longer hold her tears back when one after another someone from the search party came back to the house to report that nothing had been found and it was hard to even try and find any tracks because of the dark. At midnight they had to call a halt to the search: they simply could not see what they were doing. Even moonlight would have helped but the cloud was low.

At this point Mrs Dobson was by Marianne's side and did not leave. She said nothing when she saw the tears emerge but wrapped her arms around the young mistress and held her close. Atfirst light she would send for Mrs Ferrars and perhaps even Mrs Dashwood, but meanwhile Mrs Brandon really was quite alone. She saw the fear in the younger woman's eyes and remembered the time when the whole household had been on tenterhooks, not being sure if their master would come back from battle. If their worry then was at all an indicator of how their master's wife would be feeling now, the young woman would need all the support she could get.

"You should try and rest a little, Madam," Mrs Dobson suggested quietly. She knew it was pointless to try and convince Marianne to actually go to bed, but she shouldn't just sit in the library all night either.

"I can't. I can't possibly until he comes back…" Marianne answered quietly. She was managing to keep her tears from turning into full sobs, but the fear she was experiencing was constricting her chest so hard she could hardly breathe.

"I know, I know, dear, but perhaps if I bring you a blanket on the daybed there?" Mrs Dobson tried. After a short think Marianne nodded. She wouldn't sleep, but she was feeling a little cold.

"Please, Mrs Dobson, you must retire for the night. You mustn't stay up." Marianne then said. It was one thing for her to wait up, but the staff had worked so hard today and the house needed running the day after as well. She was of no consequence, really, but the staff needed their rest.

"Nonsense, Madam. We've sent the younger staff to their beds for the night but Michaels and I will just be downstairs in our offices in case Colonel Brandon does come. We cannot go to bed no more than you can, Madam. Now, lie back at least and rest what you can so you'll be all right for when he does come home." Mrs Dobson spoke in a very reassuring voice, almost like tucking a child into bed after a nightmare. She pulled the blanket over Marianne's shoulder as the younger woman reclined onto the daybed.

"Yes, he will come home. My Christopher will make sure he'll come home." Marianne replied, gathering some of her resolve. It would not do to lose faith now. Mrs Dobson left her in the library, hoping the young lady would nod off even just a little. It would be a long night otherwise, waiting for sunrise and the search to start again. Mrs Dobson's own fears had been tucked away underneath her professional façade, but every step that took her deeper downstairs to her office made those fears rise closer to the surface. She cared for her master very deeply. He was a good man and Mrs Dobson had seen how lonely and miserable he had been over the years and how happy he was now. It would be so cruel if that happiness was to come to an end so soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Into Thin Air: Chapter 5

Against all odds Marianne did fall into fitful sleep somewhere in the small hours. Her pitiful rest was plagued with angst-ridden dreams, one more awful than the previous. All repeating and amplifying all the fears and sorrow she had felt when Brandon had been away fighting wars. Marianne was grateful to wake up – even if it meant another hour or two of waiting for sunrise. Her fears all started t crowd her in: what if something truly awful had happened and she wouldn't get her Christopher back? They hadn't had any time together and if something had happened Marianne would not be able to bring herself to forgive the fates.

Christopher was such a gentle soul and always put others ahead of himself. Had that characteristic of his caused this disappearance? Had something happened at the fire that led to this? She should have gone there herself. Even if just to stand in the sidelines and wait for him to be finished and ride home with him. Why didn't she! Christopher deserved to be looked after, he deserved care and love ad gentle touches and he deserved to feel loved. He didn't need to go fight every battle for everyone else all the time. Marianne was building such resentment towards that unfortunate fire at that farm before she got hold of herself: of course you go and help out. How awful it all must have been at the farm. She should probably go there herself, regardless, to offer her support even if Christopher wasn't here. As his wife she had responsibilities. "Yes, wife and nothing different," she thought to herself when the fear tried to creep in again. She wondered where he was and how he was feeling. Was he hurt? Was he awake, waiting for help somewhere?

There was barely a glimmer of light when Marianne heard how the big house came back to life. First she heard all the men in the house gather outside, getting ready to start the search again. Horses took off and men were talking and shouting as they started their task. Then she heard curtains drawn and doors opening and closing as the maids prepared the house for the day. Very soon Mrs Dobson came to Marianne with a cup of tea.

"I hope you slept at least a little, Madam," Mrs Dobson offered.

Marianne nodded.

"I didn't think I would, I'm so very worried Mrs Dobson, but I seem to have nodded off at some point."

Mrs Dobson placed the tray by Marianne and folded away her blanket.

"I know you're worried, Madam – we all are – but I must say I'm absolutely sure we'll get the Colonel back in one piece." Mrs Dobson tried to encourage Marianne.

The small hours of the night had witnessed a man waking up not knowing where he was, how he got there and not really understanding why he was cold, wet and aching all over. Colonel Brandon woke up coughing violently. His mind was flooded with possible scenarios of what was going on, all of them making him wonder if he was on the battlefield, injured and in danger. Terror crept over him as he tried to listen for the sounds of battle or at least if there were any other injured soldiers around.

When he gradually started to understand that he was surrounded with nothing but dark and silence, his nightmares started to fade and more recent memories started to take over: those battles were long gone and he had been home for a long time. Fire. There had been a fire and he had been trying to help put it out and protect the other buildings. He remembered getting on his horse to go back home… Home to Marianne! "Gods, what is this?" Brandon thought. Beyond getting on his horse, he could not remember a thing.

Brandon was very aware of his aching body, but he took a deep breath and started to assess his situation. He pushed and managed to turn onto his back. The arm that had been trapped under his side earlier was numb but immediately started to come out in pins and needles. His ribs and the whole side he had been on was hurting: throbbing and stinging and Brandon knew it had been battered and cut open. His entire leg on the opposite side was very sore as well, but small tentative movements told him it was not broken. Whether he could put weight on it would remain to be seen. Little by little all manner of pains and aches revealed themselves in detail: his face and head, shoulders and that arm on the more injured side in particular.

What worried Brandon more than then cuts and bruises, however, was the damp cold. He wasn't soaking wet, but moisture had clearly crept through all of his clothes, and the night temperature was very low – close to night frost as far as he could tell. He needed to get on the move soon if he wanted to maintain any body temperature. The shivers were already starting. Where was his horse? If he could get to his horse he could huddle close for some of the animal's body heat until he could see where he was. If he had just left to get back to Delaford then surely he had to be somewhere familiar.

"Caesar!" Brandon called into the darkness. With the low cloud there was very little of moonlight but his eyes were beginning to adjust and he could tell some shapes in the landscape. But, alas, no horse. Caesar was beautiful and fast, but not one of his most reliable of horses. He had a mare that would never do anything that he hadn't asked if she had been saddled, but this stallion, Caesar, was young and with a mind of his own. Somehow Brandon was not surprised the horse had not remained with him. Unless, of course, there was something wrong with the creature.

With great effort Brandon forced himself to sit up. He used his better arm to help himself up, but even then he could not help but grunt in pain. His right arm was surely broken. The collar bone perhaps as well. Using his better arm Brandon started to unbutton the middle buttons on his tunic with the intention of tucking in the injured arm for support, but he soon found that whatever had happened to him had torn all but one of the buttons off. With great effort he managed to tuck his hand into his shirt but had to sit still, taking deep breaths for a while before the pain of the movement eased enough to even think about getting on his feet. There was one thought at the back of his mind that he had forced to stay there so that he could focus on his own condition first: the thought of Marianne. He needed to get to Marianne.


	6. Chapter 6

Into Thin Air: Chapter 6

Brandon struggled to get on his feet but he would not give up: he had to move even if it was just to walk around in a circle, otherwise he would freeze to death. From what he could tell, he was on a field somewhere. Not a cultivated one but a pasture. He tried to think of the pastures near Delaford but quickly concluded there were far too many around to be able to work out which one he was on. Clearly he had somehow ended up away from a road but he had no idea which way the road was. He simply had to wait for first light. His left leg – the entire leg – hurt like hell, but it carried and so Brandon started to pass the time by pacing within a small area.

Brandon kept thinking of Marianne. Whereas initially his concern for his dear wife was too painful to bear, now thinking of her provided him with comfort and incentive to keep going. He needed to get to Marianne, and he needed to find his way back to her embrace. His longing for her had been utter misery when he had been away in battle. That time he had been poorly with his injury and had been saddened by the prospect that he might not survive to see her again. He knew how much she loved him as well and knew she would be worried about him now. Someone would have come to him by now if they had any idea what had happened to him, which meant they were clueless, and he had to be quite a distance from the road. They would have had to call any search activities off because of the darkness, but Brandon was certain they would continue to look for him in the morning.

Marianne – his heart felt like it would burst when he allowed his worry to overwhelm him. He still was not entirely convinced that he was worthy of her love, but as long as she loved him he would accept it with gratitude. To have her by his side was more than Brandon could ever ask from life, but there she was. Now she was having to be the mistress of Delaford so soon after their wedding. She hadn't had much time to find her feet and become comfortable with that role. She had to be the mistress, and she would be so worried about him at the same time. "Be strong, my love, I will come back to you soon," Brandon thought to himself.

Thinking of Marianne had provided Brandon with enough distraction to keep him going in his little confined area of movement until the sun began to provide a faint light. Brandon was thirsty, in pain and so very, very tired, but the thought of not being with Marianne was unbearable. With great difficulty the injured man set himself down on his knees once more so that he could capture the morning dew on the grass. It wasn't much, but he managed to gather at least some moisture in his mouth. In the distance he saw the contour of the landscape and he knew roughly where he was. He was not certain about his distance from the road that would lead to Delaford, but he knew now which direction he should go.

At Delaford, Marianne practically gulped her tea down and took the shortest of moments to tidy up her appearance. She could not really care any less for her own sake, but she could not ignore what she had learned so far of her role as the mistress of Delaford: she had to remain calm and confident. It wouldn't do to go observe the search with a messy face and in a wrinkly dress. As she was getting changed, Mrs Dobson knocked on the door.

"Madam, I took the liberty of sending for your sister, Mrs Ferrars," she explained.

The pressing ache in Marianne's chest eased a little. Yes, it would be good to have Elinor here whilst they waited for news.

"Thank you, that's lovely. I don't… I don't know what to do with myself, Mrs Dobson," Marianne confessed. She was trying to build up her confidence so she could step out of her rooms and truly be the mistress of Delaford.

"All the men are out there already, Madam. I'm sure it will be just moments and they will find Colonel Brandon. But I took the liberty of having Mrs Ferrars fetched to keep you company. It's good to be with family at a time like this." Marianne couldn't agree more: despite the braveness she was trying to project, she was crumbling inside. Christopher had been missing for hours and hours in the cold night. She needed someone to try and hold her together.


	7. Chapter 7

Into Thin Air: Chapter 7

"Oh Marianne!" Elinor sighed as she rushed to her sister and pulled her into a hearty embrace. They had been here before, the ghosts of Brandon's previous disappearance had been evoked the moment one of Delaford's servants had knocked on Elinor's door and explained what was going on. Edward had dressed himself at great speed as well and had now already joined the search party. From what Elinor had understood, the men were sweeping the roadsides now to see if there were any traces of where Brandon's horse may have got off the road. They hadn't been able to go very deep off the road last night.

"Elinor, I don't know what to do if something bad has happened to him!" Marianne sobbed against her sister's shoulder. Elinor was keeping her safe and she could let her guard down for a moment.

"Oh dearest, I'm absolutely certain he will be alright and we'll soon find out what happened. Why don't you tell me everything?" Elinor suggested, and Marianne explained everything she knew about the fire last night and how her husband had simply disappeared off a simple road not half an hour from home. Elinor had, of course, heard all this before, but she thought it would do Marianne good to be able to process the events out loud herself. It also passed the time.

Suddenly one of the men approached Delaford on his horse at high speed.

"We found some tracks on a field!" the man declared form a distance loud enough for the sisters to hear as well. Marianne's heart was racing. Some tracks? Michaels must have asked for more information because by the time Marianne and Elinor made it out of the house, the man was explaining about some hoof marks and signs of dragging on one of the fields. They had sent men on horses that way immediately.

On the very field a very tired Colonel Brandon was limping towards the familiar hill in the landscape. Suddenly, behind a deep dip in the field he saw his horse. The creature was enjoying a hearty breakfast of grass, not at all concerned that his master was in need of help.

"Caesar!" Brandon called. He held no hope at the horse actually moving to meet him, but there was no reason why it wouldn't let him get to it. This was a young stallion, but Brandon did train them well and they were never particularly difficult. Oddly enough, his stallion must have decided spending this long on an empty field in full riding gear was getting tedious: Caesar lifted its head and decided to go to his master!

Brandon was not sure if he could mount the horse, but at least he could try and get some support and a little warmth. With his better arm Brandon assisted his hurting leg toward the stirrup, but long before his foot was anywhere near it he could tell getting on the horse would be an impossibility – he had pulled his leg too badly to reach the distance. Even trying to reach the stirrup with his better leg was impossible. He leaned on the horse for warmth as he tried to catch his breath. Just trying that had exhausted him, and clearly he was still a good distance from the road. After a while, Brandon went to the other side of the horse so that he could grab hold of the saddle straps with his better hand and get support.

"All right then, Caesar, lets plod along home," Brandon said quietly to the horse and clicked his tongue. The horse surprised him again: the creature started to walk towards the hill Brandon had been aiming at already, maintaining a slow and gentle speed that his master could manage. Brandon was not using the reigns at all and still the once-stubborn stallion followed his basic verbal commands to slow down more or stop for a breather.

After an eternity Brandon thought he had started to hallucinate when he heard human voices. He couldn't see anyone, but that wouldn't be surprising with the way these fields rolled up and down. The voices became louder and suddenly he saw figures on horses emerge from a dip. "Thank God!" he thought, and allowed a sense of relief take him over.

"Over here!" Brandon shouted with what was almost his last ounce of energy, and then dropped onto his knees. He sat there, breathing heavily until the search party got to him.

"Thank God you are all right, sir!" someone said

"Get some blankets!" he heard another voice call. All he could manage was to try and not black out. He needed to get home to Marianne. She must be so worried.


	8. Chapter 8

Into Thin Air: Chapter 8

Marianne had refused to go back into the house after the latest news about the tracks. Her breathing shallow and eyes fixed to the road leading to the house she was clinging onto her sister, grateful for the soothing sounds Elinor was making.

"That's it," Elinor had said after the news came, and continued:

"They're sure to find him now."

"But what does the dragging trail mean? Has he come off his horse?" Marianne wondered. Well, perhaps some explanation would offered later, but all she cared about now was seeing her husband again. Preferably in once piece.

Another rider approached the house. Fast.

"We found him! We found him!" the young man shouted. His tone was so elated and his whole demeanour such that both Marianne and Elinor knew straight away things could not be too bad.

"Where is he? Is he all right? Is he hurt?" Marianne rushed to the rider, asking questions faster than the poor lad could answer. The boy got off the saddle to explain better.

"He was already making his own way back to the road. He said he woke up further away in the ground and had started to try and find the road as soon as he could see this morning."

"But is he all right?" Marianne pressed.

"Mostly, Madam. He's hurt his arm and side, and his leg as well. We're not quite sure what happened, but I heard Colonel Brandon discuss the trail he had left and his injuries and it sounded as though the horse may have been spooked by something and the Colonel came off it, except his foot go caught in the stirrups, perhaps. But I don't know very much about that, Madam. They're bringing him here on a cart right now but I wanted to ride ahead to give you the good news."

"Oh Marianne, he's all right, a little hurt but all right!" Elinor embraced her sister. In her customary manner Elinor had managed to keep herself calm, but now the sense of relief was such that she joined her sister in shedding some happy tears as they hugged each other.

"He's all right and they're bringing him home. Thank you, thank you so much for letting as now. I was sick with worry!" Marianne said to the young man who was now standing by his horse, accepting a glass of water from one of the maids.

Elinor turned to Michaels who was out as well, not hiding his relief either.

"Have we sent for the doctor yet? Sounds like the Colonel will be needing him shortly." Elinor asked. Michales nodded.

"I sent for him as soon as I heard the Colonel had been found. Mrs Dobson has also sent the maids to heat extra water for a hot bath. It was a cold night and the Colonel will be wet as well."

Elinor thanked Michaels and nodded to Mrs Dobson who was standing by the front entrance. All they could do now was to wait for the cart that would bring Delaford's master home again.

Finally they could see the carriage approach. Marianne did not even realize she stopped breathing until she could see Brandon clearly in the carriage. He looked pale and so tired!

"Oh dear Lord, Elinor, he's hurting so much!" Marianne gasped.

"Yes, he does seem very hurt – but he's here now, that's the most important thing, isn't it?" Elinor tried to help her sister see the positive in the situation.

"Yes, I suppose you're right Elinor, " Marianne agreed.

The carriage stopped at the front of the house and Marianne rushed to it.

"Darling, oh Christopher my dear, how are you? What happened?" she could not keep the questions in. Slowly Brandon, hearing Marianne, stirred from his present stupor and turned towards her voice. Their eyes met and Brandon could not help smiling. It was a little strained and tired smile, but a smile all the same.

"Marianne… It's all right, darling, I'll be ok."

Marianne saw he was so tired she shouldn't ask more questions. Instead she needed to stir her stumps: her husband needed her now.

"Can you help him to his bed, please. We must get him out of these wet clothes. And let's have that bath ready." She was talking to Michaels, but of course all the servants around them heard the orders and did not wait for further instruction from Michaels: they all knew what they were doing. The men who had brought Brandon in also carefully helped him down from the carriage and escorted him into the house and the bedchamber. Every move he had to take caused such obvious pain Marianne thought her heart would break.

"Just a little further, my love," she talked to him quietly as they slowly made their way up the stairs. Elinor remained downstairs, waiting for Edward.

"I'll be here, Marianne, just call if you need me," Elinor said to Marianne, who looked back from the stairs and nodded. The mixed emotions she had to be feeling were all on her face in the form of a smile of relief and eyes that were welling up with tears for the state Brandon was in. But he would be all right now, Elinor thought. He was back, and Marianne would not leave his side until he was all right.


	9. Chapter 9

Into Thin Air: Chapter 9

Once in their room Marianne cared nothing of appearances and all about her husband when she quickly dismissed the men who had helped them up.

"I thank you with all my heart, gentlemen, but the Colonel needs to get out of these wet clothes and warmed up." Marianne practically shooed the men out – very politely, of course.

"Oh Christopher!" was all she could manage when she turned her full attention to her husband. Brandon, sitting on the side of the bed, was already trying to shed his tunic and shirt, but was only able to unbutton the shirt with his more functional hand. He was still so cold he was shivering. Of course she had seen the bruises to his face already, but had stubbornly decided to ignore the for the time being. Right now, however, he looked so utterly broken, and his beautiful features were marred with black and blue over one cheekbone and under one eye, and the side of his brow had a cut on it. The men who brought him home must have done something to help stop the bleeding there, but she could see there had been plenty of blood. A lot of it was on his shirt.

"Let me get this, love," Marianne spoke more softly, trying to keep her emotions under control. That turned out to be more difficult than she thought when she sat beside Brandon on the bed and started to unbutton the shirt his hand was suddenly cupping her cheek, pulling her to him for a kiss.

"I thought I might not see you again…" he whispered, and kissed her again. Marianne could do nothing but whimper as she wrapped her arm around his torso softly under his shirt and kissed him back.

"I was so afraid, Christopher, I was so afraid I didn't know what to do…" she whispered back, leaning her head on his shoulder.

The embrace did not last very long, though, as Christopher shivered again and winced when he tried to press himself closer to Marianne.

"Darling we must get you out of these clothes," Marianne snapped back into action. It broke her heart to see how much he hurt when they ever so gently manoeuvred his injured arm out of the tunic and the shirt, but it had to be done. Once his top was completely undressed, she wrapped a soft blanket around him and proceeded with his boots and trousers. At any other time (and it had already happened, of course) she would have taken a very different kind of joy in undressing him like this, but this time every stab of pain he felt, she felt as well.

She hadn't really looked very carefully when she was helping the clothes off, but when he was finally completely undressed, Marianne could not help but gasp: his entire body as covered in bruises and cuts, especially the side of his injured arm. The ankle and knee of the opposite leg were as thick as his thigh and had turned so purple it was almost black. He wasn't bleeding anymore, but the cuts on his ribs must have bled at one point.

"I wish the doctor would hurry," she half sobbed when she looked through his injuries.

"Help me to the bath, love?" Christopher managed to ask. He was barely awake anymore, not able to contribute much of himself at this point. He didn't much care about the pain, but the cold was unbearable.

Marianne just nodded and positioned herself so that she could support him from his better side for the few awkward steps he had to take to reach the tub. Getting into the tub was another feat of courage, but with some groans and sobs they managed to lower Brandon into the hot water. The shivers immediately followed, but gradually his body accepted the warmth. Marianne picked up a sponge, rolled up her sleeves and started to wash Christopher's aching body as gently as she could. In a matter of moments she heard his breathing change and saw that he was leaning his head to the back of the tub, eyes closed.

"You sleep, my love. You're safe now and I'll not let anything happen to you again," Marianne spoke softly.

She washed his hair, and still he did not wake up. He smelled of a curious combination of a meadow and smoke, but little by little the water erased all these external scents off him and finally all that she could smell on him was a bit of his soap and the essence of Christopher. She had been so afraid she'd never be able to smell that again. His body was warm again and he no longer shivered. But if he was so deeply asleep Marianne would not be able to get him out of the bath.

Excellent timing from the doctor came to Marianne's rescue, as there was a knock on the door just when she was giving Brandon's hair one last rinse. The doctor entered and looked a little surprised at what he saw. There had been a few raised eyebrows downstairs when had arrived: Mrs Brandon had, apparently, dismissed everyone else from the bedchambers and insisted on caring for the Colonel herself. The doctor had expected to find him in bed in need of cleaning any wounds, but Mrs Brandon had clearly seen to all that.

"Oh Doctor, so good of you to come so quickly," Marianne greeted the man.

"Mrs Brandon, Colonel…"

"He's fast asleep, I'm afraid, Doctor. I was just wondering how to best wake him up and get him to the bed," Marianne interrupted. Christopher's face was towards the door and clearly the doctor had not seen he wasn't awake.

"Yes, he should be in bed now, if you've finished bathing him. Allow me to help." The doctor offered, put his bag down and took his coat off and then approached the bath.

"Christopher, dearest…" Marianne started to talk to her husband in soft tones, close to his ear. She stroked his cheek, wanting to wake him up as gently as possible. He would be in pain again when he woke, but this had to be done.

"Dearest?" she spoke again, caressing his un-bruised cheek a little more firmly now. Brandon stirred.

"What…"

"Shh, darling, don't speak. But you must wake up a little so that the good doctor here can take a look at your injuries. We need to get you out of this bath." She explained. The normally so controlled Colonel was so exhausted still that he was not able take anything in. His awareness was only able to absorb the fact that his Marianne was with him, and she was looking after him.

Dr Williams offered Brandon his hand to see if the poor man was in any condition to grab it. Brandon locked his hand around the doctor's wrist, and the doctor did the same around Brandon's. Marianne went over to Brandon's more injured side and reached her arm around his waist, trying to take care not to put pressure on the arm or the battered flank.

"Is this all right, love? Can I lift from here?" she asked. Brandon took a few deep breaths to brace himself against the pain that was bound to come, then nodded his permission to start the operation. Every muscle in his body was screaming by now despite the sweet respite that had been the hot bath, but of course he could not stay in the tub forever.

Very carefully Marianne and Dr Williams manoeuvred Brandon onto the bed. Before they allowed him to sit down, Marianne opened the covers: when the doctor was done, Christopher Brandon would not be going very far from his bed for a while. Marianne would have preferred other reasons for keeping her husband in that bed, but she'd rather have him there battered and bruised than not at all.

Brandon managed to stay awake through the doctor's examination and not the least because of the agony of his arm and leg being examined by hand: the arm was broken just above the wrist, it seemed. The doctor was confident, though, that the bones had not become misaligned and everyone sighed in relief for not having the pull the bones back into place. A splinter and rest was all that could be done there. For the rest, Brandon had cracked two ribs, but the rest was bruising, even the hurt leg.

"What on earth happened then, Doctor? Do you have any idea?" Marianne asked.

"What's the last thing you remember, Colonel?" the doctor asked.

"I remember getting on my horse and deciding to come home. That I worked out I'd have enough time to get back to Delaford before dark. After that, the next thing I knew I woke on the field." Brandon explained.

Dr Williams had heard about the fire, how Brandon had been in the thick of it in trying to protect the buildings, about the search party and where the Colonel had been found on the way to the house. Having now seen his bruises he could only come to one conclusion.

"I expect we'll never know every detail of this, but it does look like you may have passed out after you took off on your horse. Do you remember coughing at all or did you difficulties breathing at any time?"

Brandon had a think about that. He had coughed a bit when he woke, but had worked at suppressing the reflex when he realized how much it hurt. Can't have been a bad need to cough if he could avoid it like that. But it hadn't been like that the night before, had it?

"Now that you make me think about it, I think I was coughing rather a lot when I took off. I remember thinking it wasn't a good idea to have Caesar and have such coughing fits on the saddle. He's still a young horse and a bit stubborn. Wants to have his own way. He's not easily spooked, but needs constant guidance."

"Hmmm…" Dr Williams took a moment to think. Then offered the best explanation he could come up with based on all he knew:

"I suspect you'll have either passed out on your horse or have, after all, managed to spook him. Something has made the horse bolt off the road and enough for you to come off it. Well, except for your leg: there's a sharper bruise around that ankle there and I'd say you got dragged onto the field by your leg. Explains why it's that leg and the opposite arm where your worst injuries are. Damned lucky man you didn't get tramped on."

Marianne, sitting on her side of the bed reached over and took Brandon's good hand in hers.

"Thank God you're in one piece, dearest. More or less. And thank God you did not get hit by the horse."


	10. Chapter 10

Into Thin Air: Chapter 10

It hadn't take long for Brandon to pass out like a light after the doctor finished dressing his wounds and seeing to his arm. His arm alone must have hurt like nothing on earth, never mind his other bruises, but the cold and all had simply drained him of his last bits of energy.

"We can only let him rest as much as possible now, Mrs Brandon," the doctor said and left the room. Marianne took in the sleeping form of her husband. Even in his sleep it was easy to see how tired he was. She would have to keep an eye on him that he'll not move his arm awkwardly and that he didn't develop a fever after that exposure. Her own fever after getting soaked had been so bad she had not been expected to survive. Until her der Brandon had a day or two with no symptoms, Marianne would not leave his side for long. She would maintain constant vigil.

His sleep became deeper and deeper and Marianne could see Christopher would not stir for a while. She should see Elinor and thank her for coming. Marianne knew she would have simply expired from sheer anxiety and worry had Elinor not come. She pressed a gentlest of kisses onto Christopher's forehead before quietly slipping out of the room.

"I'll just be a moment, my darling, please just sleep and I'll be back before you know it," Marianne whispered.

Downstairs Dr Williams was in the middle of explaining how he believed the Colonel to be out of danger, but that he would need a lot of rest and to allow his broken arm to heal. The hall was full of people. Looking around, Marianne realized there were people from all of the farms in the Delaford estate. All of his tenants had sent at least someone if not everyone to join in in the search and everyone was now very keen on hearing the news. Marianne was still standing in the stairs when Dr Williams concluded what he was willing to share about his patient and the crowd's attention turned onto Marianne.

"Congratulations on your marriage, Mrs Brandon, and so sorry for your honeymoon to have had such a turn," someone wished, a woman. When the owner of the voice stepped out from behind a tall man's back, Marianne could see who it was: Beth!

"Thank you, Beth, thank you very much," Marianne responded. The crowd looked at her as if expecting something, and from the corner of her eye she saw Elinor giving her an encouraging nod. Of course – she was the mistress of Delaford and these people had given up so much of their own time to help the master of Delaford. Had Christopher been up and about he would express his gratitude, but since he wasn't, it was her duty. And she so wanted to express her own gratitude.

"And thank you so much, everyone. I haven't even had a chance to meet you all in person yet but I feel I owe you all such gratitude for your efforts. When Colonel Brandon is better he will also be able to express his gratitude for the care you have all shown. I feel quite humbled y the way you have given up your precious time to come and help in the search – it tells me that you about Colonel Brandon… We may only have been married for a few days, but Colonel Brandon means everything to me and the prospect of losing him hung so heavily upon me I did not know what to do. But I saw how everyone joined in and would not give up until he was found and that was such a comfort to me. And it gave me so much hope. So thank you so very much and know that I am forever in you debt."

Marianne had never really been in such a position as this one. She had always been the younger sister, a young girl – never the mistress of a house. She hoped she would be worthy of the trust that had now been placed upon her. From the corner of her eye, she again saw Elinor nod in encouragement. Perhaps what she had said had been correct. She would make sure to visit every farm later on with personal thanks.

"No need to thank us, ma'am", one of the farmers then replied, continuing: "Colonel Brandon is the finest landlord a man can hope for and he has helped us all in one way or another ever since he was but a young lad here. The Colonel is dear to us all and we couldn't hardly sit by idly when we heard he could be in trouble."

"Hear, hear!" someone supported the statement from the crowd.

"So congratulations to you again on your marriage and we're all happy the Colonel is safe home again," someone else added.

"Thank you," Marianne said again, bowing her head. The warmth, respect and care she sensed from everyone was almost overwhelming and her eyes filled up a little.

Mrs Dobson somehow had a special knack at making herself seen at the right time.

"There now…" she said as she came to Marianne's side, handing her a white handkerchief.

Michaels opened to doors and everyone started filing out of the hall, and outside where Mrs Dobson had somehow organized a small luncheon to the search party. Marianne was, again, ever so grateful to Mrs Dobson.  
"You are pure gold, Mrs Dobson – I was in no state to even think of arranging a luncheon, and that is the least we can do for everyone."

"Quite all right, Madam," was all Mrs Dobson said. She then exchanged a look with Elinor who had walked over. Elinor took Marianne's hand and as quietly as she had come to Marianne's side, Mrs Dobson left and went to oversee the luncheon.

"Elinor, oh Elinor, the doctor thinks he'll be fine," Marianne whispered. Elinor smiled and embraced her sister.

"That is such good news," Elinor said.

"I owe you a thank you as well, Elinor, you held me together when I found the wait to be the hardest." Quietly Marianne wished that if there ever was a time her sister needed support, she would be half the woman Elinor was and would be able to help.

"Of course I came, dearest. You wouldn't do anything less! And you know Brandon is a dear friend to me, too, and I would have been beside myself with worry had I not come here and see how everyone was working together to find him."

"It is amazing how everyone joined in," Marianne said, still in awe of the crowd that had been here.

"He is a good man, Marianne, everyone who cares to try and know him at all cares for him and would not think twice about helping."

"True, he is such a good man. He keeps it all to himself, but there are clearly times when the magnitude of his good deeds comes to light. Like today." Marianne pondered.

"Edward should be back here by now as well and I should go find him. I don't suppose you'll want to be away from your Brandon for long," Elinor said with a teasing smile. Despite the situation, Marianne felt herself blush.

"Elinor!" she gasped.

"Oh dearest, you've been married only a few days. Everyone knows you have not been seen by anyone apart from your staff since then and I know that if your first days are anything like what we had with Edward, you'll not have any time for anyone else but each other. And that's how it should be!" Elinor was teasing her younger sister now, but only because she had seen the love and desire develop to such intense measures between her friend Brandon and her sister Marianne.

"Oh Elinor, you're impossible!" Marianne hissed, but now she, too, was smiling.

"Go on then, go see to your Colonel and make sure he gets better. I'll go find Edward." And with that, Elinor kissed her sister goodbye.


	11. Chapter 11

Into Thin Air: Chapter 11

A second time Brandon became aware of himself not knowing where he was – only this time he was glad to note that he was not cold or wet. He was still aching all over. A few deep breaths helped him focus his mind and also brought in a scent he had so worried he'd lost forever: Marianne. He listened more carefully and took great comfort in hearing Marianne's soft breathing coming from beside him. He opened his eyes to find that the room was not completely dark: Marianne had left a lantern by her side of the bed.

Brandon took stock of his aches and pains before attempting to move. His right arm was in a splint and hurting severely. There was a dull ache all the way down his right side and his left leg felt like it was as thick as a tree trunk. He had hit his head and his face, for sure, but apart from the arm his arm, nothing else seemed to be broken. Carefully he turned to look at Marianne. She was asleep, on her side and facing him. She was in her nightgown and a robe, but only had a thin throw to cover her – she hadn't come under the covers properly. Had she not intended to sleep? And how long had he been sleeping?

He did not want to wake Marianne, but the angle of his arm and the way he had clearly been lying in the same position for a good while just made his body scream for a change. Brandon tried to shuffle his body to a slightly different angle to face Marianne as quietly as possible, but every movement hurt. His broken arm, in particular, was uncomfortable. He thought he had managed to shift to his better side without disturbing Marianne, but did not notice her eyes open when he worked on settling his arm in a more comfortable position: a greater feat that he had anticipated.

"Let me help you, love," he heard Marianne say quietly. Brandon met her eyes: she hadn't moved from her position yet and Brandon froze where he was as well. Marianne's eyes were so full of concern and worry that he could feel his heart constrict. This was the first time they were alone since he had returned. At least alone in the sense that both were awake.

"It's ok, love…" Brandon then managed to mutter. Marianne was so beautiful there he did not want her to move – but it was too late, she pulled herself up and went around the bed to his side.

"Let's try a pillow…" she explained, picking up a good size pillow and gestured that she'd prop it under his arm if he could lift it a little. Brandon didn't argue, but lifted his aching arm and found an angle where he reckoned he could rest it without too much pain. Marianne placed the pillow and Brandon could not hold back a sigh when he felt the relief of the even support his arm now had.

"Come back to bed, love," he asked.

"Do you need anything else? Something to drink?" Marianne asked. Brandon hadn't even thought about it, but now that he was a little more comfortable he realized he was rather parched. He hated being an invalid, but the harsh reality was that right now he relied on the help of others. He nodded to accept the water.

"Oh don't be difficult about this," Marianne immediately told him off. She had immediately seen the male pride raise its head and wanted to put an end to those notions straight away.

"I think we've both been here before, in one form or another," she continued. Brandon smiled a little: of course she was right. He had looked after her, and she had looked after him. They had both opened their very souls up for each other, and what could be more vulnerable than that? There was nothing about him Marianne had not seen or he would be unwilling to share with her, and so being a bit bedridden would not make her think any less of him. Brandon was certain of that – after all, he had become to know the extent of her love for him.

Marianne returned his smile and poured him some water. However, his current position did not allow for an elegant sip, and it took the couple a few tries and some laughter before Brandon actually managed to drink enough.

"Next time, I'll try and remember to ask for the drink before I turn to my side," Brandon chuckled. Marianne wiped some drops off his cheek.

"Yes, I'll try and remember that as well. Are you more comfortable now?" she asked. Brandon nodded and relaxed his head onto his pillow again. Yes, he was more comfortable.

"You should come back to bed now, love," he repeated his request from before. Marianne came back to her side and started to recline on top of the covers as she had done before, but Brandon interrupted her:

"No, dearest, come to bed properly. Under the covers. I want to have you near me." Brandon was more serious again, and Marianne did as he asked.

"Closer," he beckoned.  
"But what if I hurt you?"

"I promise I will tell you, but please, I need to feel you close to me, my love," he pleaded with her.

Marianne saw his need for closeness and she could not deny her own need for the same. In the days since their wedding there had not been many moments in a day when they had not been close enough to touch, and a lot of the time they had been touching. Even if it was just a brush of fingers discreetly under a table, but they had shared touches at every opportunity. Marianne had joked how they had so much of catching up to do in terms of physical expression of their affection because of the long courtship, but it had been clear to them both that being close to each other was a basic need much like breathing.

Ever so carefully Marianne shuffled herself closer to her husband, still facing him, until their knees touched and their faces were so close to each other's that the slightest of nods brought their foreheads and noses together. Brandon somehow got his good arm under Marianne's neck and wrapped it around her shoulder, pulling her as close to him as he could.

"I was so scared, Christopher," she then whispered. She had to talk about it to him.

"I know, love. And so was I. Eventually I saw where I was, but for a moment I thought I might not get back to you," he replied.

"Does your face hurt very much, can I kiss you?" Marianne asked, gently stroking his cheek with her fingertips. Christopher's answer was to reach forwards just enough to catch her lips in his. Yes, it hurt a little, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Right now he needed that kiss as much as he had needed the water.

"I'm sorry I frightened you," he then said.

"Shh, you can't blame yourself, darling. And I'm just happy that you're home again and we'll get you better soon."

"I'm sorry for the interruption for our honeymoon," he then said and that little spark of gentle humour was starting to return to his eye. Marianne smiled at him, the sense of relief increasing within her every moment he was close and regaining his usual presence.

"Perhaps we can continue where we left off when you're bit better?" she suggested, offering him another little kiss on the lips.

"Mmhh-hhm," he confirmed as he decided not to allow the kiss to be just a little one, but deepened it as much as he could in his half-functional state. It was a bit of a surprise for him to notice that despite his physical state, the nearness of his wife and these little physical interactions affected his manhood just the same as before the accident. Marianne noticed it too:

"Oh, Christopher, if only. But I think we both know you're in no state to take that thought any further tonight," she smiled as she said that and caressed his cheek softly again.

"Regrettably, I have to, agree with you, dearest. But resuming where we left off will be a most effective incentive for full recovery, you know." Brandon's smile was full of affection and gentle mischief, and Marianne sighed in relief: her husband was back and getting over the trauma. He would be well again.

A short message from the author: this chapter concludes the present story, but should you be interested in a small stand-alone story in the M-rated category that continues from where this story just finished, give us a shout. A simple "yes for chapter 12" in the comments is sufficient communication on the matter. ;) Cheers! –G.


	12. Chapter 12

A gorgeous many thanks for reading this story – and any of my other stories. I asked for a "yes to chapter 12" at the end of chapter 11 of the present story, and I thought I should mention here that there is, indeed, a "chapter 12". It's a bit on the saucy end of the ratings scale so it's up as a separate story under M-rating. So if you're interested, make sure your ratings search criteria is for "All", or simply click on my nick to see all my stories. The Bonus Chapter 12 for this story is actually two chapters in itself.

Thanks everyone!

-G.


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